


The Strength of A Raging Fire

by JuweWright



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Quidditch, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, minor canon characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 22:31:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20590175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuweWright/pseuds/JuweWright
Summary: Bulgaria's Seeker Viktor Krum only recently participated in the Triwizard Tournament at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. But it seems there's no rest for the wicked as the champion has just announced that he will be hosting a Quidditch Boot Camp in Bulgaria. For one full week this summer, he will be supervising 14 young promising players. Applications can be made by sending a short introduction and two references to the address below. Applicants should be twelve years old or older and need to include the written permission of their parent or legal guardian.





	1. Overture

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Sing Me a Rare: The Soundtracks.  
Song Prompt – I'll Make a Man Out of You - Donny Osmond - Mulan
> 
> Harry Potter characters are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended. No profit is being made from this creation.
> 
> Love to my beta.

Ginny Weasley had admired Viktor Krum ever since she first saw him fly in the World Cup final. Obviously, she never expected the older boy to even notice her during the Triwizard Tournament especially considering how smitten he was with Hermione Granger, completely oblivious to the rest of the world. Also, there were no Quidditch matches because of the damn tournament. Which meant another year for Ginny to hope that one day she'd be allowed onto the Gryffindor team along with Fred and George. The twins had always exaggerated a bit when telling her how excellent a flyer she was. Ginny knew she wasn't bad. But there was work needed for her to become Angelina Johnson's equal or be as good as Katie Bell. Work, training, on a proper broom and with proper equipment, not the moth-eaten old Cleansweeps that hardly held it together and were the only thing at hand in the Weasley household. When Harry's latest copy of „Seeker Weekly“ finally found its way into her hands – after Ron had done unspeakable things with it, judging from the half-torn crumpled pages of the article about the Holyhead Harpies – the announcement on page five was already four weeks old.

**QUIDDITCH BOOT CAMP**

**Bulgaria's Seeker Viktor Krum only recently participated in the Triwizard Tournament at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. But it seems there's no rest for the wicked as the champion has just announced that he will be hosting a Quidditch Boot Camp in Bulgaria. For one full week this summer, he will be supervising 14 young promising players. Applications can be made by sending a short introduction and two references to the address below. Applicants should be twelve years old or older and need to include the written permission of their parent or legal guardian.**

The application deadline was in less than a week. Ginny didn't hesitate a single second. She grabbed the magazine and ran down the stairs of the Burrow, skidding to a halt only when she was about to crash into the kitchen counter.

„Mum!“ She exclaimed. „I need you to let me apply for this!“

A discussion followed in which the usual points were elaborated. Yes, it was a totally free training, all expenses paid including the travel costs from Sofia to the countryside. No, Ginny did not think she was too young to apply, the article clearly stated she was not. Yes, she really wanted to go. Yes, in case she was chosen, she would write home every day.

„Who are you going to ask for references?“ Her mother asked as she scribbled her approval onto a piece of parchment.

Ginny grinned.

„Professor McGonagall of course,“ she said. „She watched me fly in class.“

„And the second reference?“

Ginny blushed a deep crimson and looked at her feet, mumbling an answer.

„What was that?“ Mrs Weasley checked again.

„I was thinking about asking Harry to write it,“ Ginny murmured a little louder. „I mean... he's seen me fly, he's played against Fred, George and me.“

„That's an excellent idea, my dear,“ Mrs Weasley smiled. „Let me go and ask Ron and Percy to have you use Errol and Pigwidgeon for this. As far as I can see, we're a bit short on time and I wouldn't want you to miss out on this opportunity.“

_ Dear Mr Krum _

_ I am head of the Gryffindor House at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You might remember me from the year you spent here to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. I am contacting you on behalf of Miss Ginny Weasley, who is going to attend the fourth year soon. Miss Weasley is, in my eyes, one of the most promising young talents in Quidditch that are currently attending our school. Her performance during her very first lesson with Madame Hooch was quite extraordinary and I have to say I have only seen one single student who surpassed her in skill and wit at his very first attempt and that was Mr Potter. You will find Miss Weasley a very attentive pupil and a confident, but humble student. She picks up new knowledge quickly and her grades are far above average in almost all subjects - the single exceptions being astronomy and divination which, you will admit, both have no effect on her performance in Quidditch. She is an excellent team player and has proven that several times in my own class and the classes of my colleagues. I can only recommend you to allow Miss Weasley to participate in this summer’s boot camp. _

_ Yours sincerely, _

_ Professor Minerva McGonagall _

_ Dear Miss Weasley, _

_ I am glad to announce you have been chosen as one of four students from Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry to attend this year’s Quidditch Boot camp in Bulgaria. Find enclosed a packing list and information on time and date. _

_ Looking forward to meeting you_

_V. Krum_


	2. Let's get down to business

Ginny stumbled out of the fireplace and onto a colourful and already very dirty carpet. She coughed and looked around at the other people in the room. It seemed very much as if she was the last one to arrive and she quietly cursed her mother’s tendency to check and double-check and triple-check everything before just letting her children go anywhere. Because of Mrs Weasley, they were always almost too late for the Hogwarts Express, always late at family celebrations, always late anywhere!

You’d think if you had so many children, you’d slow down a tad and stop the fussing, but in Mrs Weasley’s case, it had only gotten worse. A few of the strangers nodded as she came in. Before she could properly scan all the faces to see if she recognised anyone, the door was thrown open and Krum marched in.

He was still tall, still lanky, still walked with his feet turned out in a thirty-degree angle. And he was so close! Ginny’s breath hitched in her throat. She thought she heard a tiny whimper from one of the boys and was happy it had not escaped her own mouth.

Krum smiled and his face became much less angular much opener. She had not seen him smile often when he was residing at Hogwarts. She’d only seen him do it a few times when he was talking to Hermione.

“Hello everybody!” He announced in his slightly accented English - it had become much better throughout the last year. “I am going to speak English because we have several different nationalities present and my French and Russian is less than adequate.” He grinned and unfolded a piece of parchment. “Let’s see if everyone has arrived yet.” He started going through the list of attendees in alphabetical order.

“Bellini, Giuliano” was an amazingly beautiful, dark-haired, olive-skinned young man from the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. His smile was both open and cunning. Ginny was pretty sure the boy knew he was attractive and able to use it. Krum handed him his bag and looked thoroughly unimpressed. His face didn’t change when “Belinski, Irina Antipova” stepped forward. She was tall, lanky, athletic and had prominent cheekbones and dark blue eyes combined with thick blonde hair. 

The list went on. There were four students from Durmstrang and Hogwarts and three students from the other two European Wizarding schools. Elena Bradley from Ravenclaw was a year younger than Ginny and looked a bit lost. Ginny smiled at her and the face of the blonde tiny girl lit up. Both Jamie Urquhardt and Alex Summerby were known entities for Ginny. Summerby was a solid Hufflepuff student. Everything about him was average. He’d not be much of a competition. Urquhardt though - they had had flying lessons together and even though she had any inclination to belittle his abilities because he was a Slytherin, she had to admit he was an excellent flyer. He might be better than Draco Malfoy and he’d probably not have to pay his way onto the Slytherin team.

The four students from Durmstrang, Freyja Vestergaard, Nis Eriksson, Malena Moravec and Pawel Kowalczyk, had to be good. Ginny was pretty sure Viktor had hand-picked them. She’d later find out, he’d actually run tryouts at the school to find the best candidates. The Beauxbatons delegation was a big question mark. Bellini looked fit, but that didn’t necessarily mean he could fly. The two girls, Eveline Lacroix and Maria Sanchez, kept putting their heads together and giggling. Ginny decided she’d wait until she’d seen them on a broom before she decided they were good for nothing. The Koldovstoretz students were difficult to place. All of them looked aloof and serene. Ginny shuddered a little when she caught the steely gaze of Ivan Lakaos. He looked as if he’d never smiled in his entire life. The other girl from their delegation was equally beautiful as Irina, but with a much darker complexion, a shot of black hair and dark eyes.

Their transport from Sofia to the Pirin National Park, where they would be staying for the camp, were four large coaches that had ample space for 14 children. Krum would be travelling by broom which was good, as his presence in any of the carriages would have led to mutinies in the remaining three. The vehicles were drawn by several silver-furred wolves which were eager to run. Ginny had no idea what kind of magic had been worked over the carriages, but the journey wasn’t half as bumpy as she had expected and the landscape outside the window flew by a lot quicker than should have been possible. Bulgaria, she decided, was beautiful. The mountains, the green valleys, the occasional lake. It all looked idyllic and lovely. 

Their camp was situated in one of those valleys. The steep incline of a mountain in the background, a lake at its foot. Some boulders were strewn around the shore and between them, a set of tents had been erected, green and black silk making up their outer shell.

“Look at that,” Urquhardt grinned as he took in the view. “Pretty clear which house they favour around here.”

His eyes fixed on Ginny who only shrugged.

There were four tents, three large ones and one smaller one which stood a little ways apart from the rest. Upon their arrival, Krum emerged from the small tent and greeted them.

“Girls’ tent is on the left. Boys’ tent is on the right. This tent over there is where we gather for lessons and food.”

He didn’t have to add that the small tent was where he would be living for the upcoming two weeks. 

They stored their luggage and Krum gave them the tour of the surroundings. The remote spot in the National Park had been chosen entirely on purpose. Just a few paces along the shoreline, a full-fledged Quidditch arena had been installed which they would be using for the training sessions. The same distance in the other direction around the lake was the parcours area, where they would practice technique and work on their stamina. A set of brooms was lined up in this area and as they came closer, Krum told them to grab one.

“I want to see what you’re made of,” he explained. “Let’s do four rounds around the parcours so I can have a look at how skilled all of you are.”

The first and second day of camp had them practising on the parcours. Ginny was one of the best trainees when it came to stamina. She could easily fly for several hours without getting tired or needing a rest. Her technique though was embarrassing. She got annoyed with herself when even after the tenth try she didn’t manage to do a proper Sloth Grip Roll. Her first attempt at doing the Spiral Dive had her almost hit the floor at the end and feeling dizzy for half an hour. The Durmstrangs and Beauxbatons all knew how to do the two figures and kept showing off to the others. Irina Belinski picked it up on the first day and seemed to glow with an air of invincibility afterwards that reminded Ginny sharply of her brother Percy - the nasty side of Percy, to be precise.

They had a last training session - strategic theories by Krum, who was much more eloquent when talking about Quidditch then when talking about anything else - after dinner. Everyone took notes. When they covered the different ways you could foul a player, Urquhardt made a show of re-enacting each of the manoeuvers with either Ginny or Summerby. They ended up laughing way too much and Krum threw them an exasperated glance. Ginny was almost sure she saw a tiny smile in his eyes that he tried to hide. Urquhardt, it turned out, wasn’t half as much of a brat as she’d expected from a Slytherin boy. He didn’t come from one of the old pureblood families. His mum was a Muggle and his dad was a descendant of the Malfoy’s former gardener. Ginny enjoyed his company immensely, even if he was a slightly better flyer than her and kept rubbing it in whenever he got the chance.

“Your Sloth Grip Roll looks a bit like a Flailing Wallaby,” he grinned. “It’s rather adorable actually. I wish I could take a photo of it.”

She grunted and decided that she’d put in an extra hour of training, see whether she wasn’t able to master the damn move. She sneaked out of the girls’ tent a few hours later. The others were playing a party of Exploding Snap and were talking about boys - Krum mainly, but also Giuliano whom both Eveline and Irina already had a crush on - and she’d pretended to be reading on her bed so she could slip out unnoticed. Just as she was about to break into a sprint to the parcours area, she heard a noise. A sob. Someone was crying. She turned her head and saw a small figure crouched down beside the tent. She recognized the blonde hair and mousy face immediately. Elena Bradley, Ravenclaw, neither one of the best flyers nor one of the worst. She hadn’t talked much in the first two days of camp and had looked a little out of place. Why was she crying?

“Elena,” Ginny murmured and huddled down beside the girl. “What’s happened? Did someone bully you? Did you get hurt during training?”

The last question wasn’t as absurd as it sounded. There had been injuries. Most of them had not been reported, because the kids did not want to look like cry-babies in front of Krum. Yet, Summerby’s twisted ankle made him grit his teeth at every step and Pawel only held on to his broom with one hand now after he had managed to somehow crush his finger. Elena shook her head.

“I… I’m just… I feel like everybody’s doing so well and making friends and talking and I am… I just want to go home.”   
  


Ginny sighed. So, homesickness, no injury, no bully. On one hand that was good, on the other hand, she’d much preferred if it had been a bully because hitting someone on the nose to teach them manners was more easily done than to make a homesick person feel less miserable. She comforted Elena, let her cry for a bit, hugged her and told her, no, she shouldn’t go home just yet because this was an opportunity that would never come again and she was a good flyer - which she was - and would learn so much - which she would - and that her parents would be proud to see her progress. She found a chocolate frog somewhere in the depths of her jacket. With a blush, she remembered that this was the exact chocolate frog Harry had given her at some point throughout the last school year. She’d kept the stupid thing like a talisman, deciding to never, ever eat it. Well, this was an emergency and it had been idiotic to keep it in the first place.

“Here,” she said and handed the package to Elena. “Eat it. It’ll help.”

-

Viktor Krum had not intended to lurk in the shadows. The only reason why he’d left his tent again after finishing the theory lesson was that he’d wanted to send an owl. It had become a habit to send one every Tuesday and he’d not slack on the routine just because he was running this boot camp. The owl hooted disapprovingly when he tied the note to her leg. It probably had enough of flying to England all the time. Viktor had just been about to return to his quarters when he’d hurt the sobbing and - just like Ginny - followed it to its source.

He watched the girls talk to each other, watched how caring Ginny was with the Ravenclaw, saw how Elena’s face lit up and her tears gave way to a small smile. He was sure the two weren’t friends. They were much too different for that. But Ginny genuinely cared. And that was impressive to see in such a young person. When Elena had returned into the girls’ tent, munching on a chocolate frog, Ginny looked around her as if to make sure nobody was watching and then set out in the opposite direction. Viktor frowned. Where was she going? He followed her, as quietly as he could and found she was headed to the parcours area. She picked up one of the brooms with a determined look on her face.

The next three hours, she spent practising the Sloth Grip Roll and the Spiral Dive until she had perfected both techniques. Only then, she finally got off the broom and headed back to camp. Viktor, still hiding behind one of the large boulders, noticed that a smile had appeared on his face. Here was a determined Quidditch player if there had ever been one. He’d have to keep a closer eye on Miss Weasley.

A little pang of guilt hit his heart when he thought about why he had picked her in the first place. Scolding himself for being a lovesick idiot, he retreated to his own tent.


	3. With all the Force of a great Typhoon

Ginny felt positively dead when she woke up the next morning. All the other girls were already dressed and ready for breakfast. She groaned and slowly made her way to the communal tent where she cradled a mug of coffee which didn’t help as much as she’d have liked it to. When it came to training though, she was suddenly awake and ready. The others stared, unable to comprehend how it was possible she should have improved so much over night.

“It’s a bit sad,” Jamie Urquhardt murmured when Ginny got back from her round through the parcours. “I’m never going to get that photo of the Flailing Wallaby now.”   
She grinned, knowing a compliment when she heard one even if it came veiled like this.

“Ginny?” Krum asked from behind them and she turned around to face him, he waved her closer and lowered his voice.

“I saw you talk to Elena yesterday evening. I already noticed she didn’t seem to enjoy camp as much as everyone else does. Do you think she… Is there anything I can do to make this easier for her?”

Ginny smiled, surprised he’d even noticed the struggles of the tiny Ravenclaw and cared enough to ask about her.

“She’s going to be fine, I think,” she said. “She’s homesick, but she’s determined enough to stay.”

He nodded curtly.   
“You’re much more mature than I’d have expected from a girl your age,” he said. “You were very compassionate with her.”   
She just shrugged trying to not register the fact that Viktor Krum had just complimented her.

“I guess that’s what you get for having six older brothers,” she replied.

That afternoon, they didn’t head out to the parcours again but down to the Quidditch pitch. Everyone was excited to play in front of the Bulgarian seeker. Viktor waited for them wearing referee robes and holding his broom in one and a set of Quidditch balls in the other hand. 

“We will rotate positions in the next days. You will never play the same position twice and you won’t be playing in the same teams. Very often, we grow into the game and are focused on one role. It clouds our perception. Sometimes someone believes to be a Beater, but they might be much better suited to the position of Seeker or Keeper. So tell me, where do you see yourselves, what’s the role you believe you are best at?”

Everyone told him what they believed and he smiled, assigning them a completely different post for the day. Ginny was half-way between Chaser and Seeker because she had always played in those positions with her brothers. 

“Ginny and Jamie, you’re beaters in your team,” Krum announced.

Jamie had said he was either a Chaser or a Keeper. He winked at Ginny as they took their positions.

“I don’t know why;” he said, “but I quite like the way he approaches the training. I’m super rubbish at being in Beater position though.”   
Ginny grinned.

“Same.”

“Well, let’s combine our rubbish forces then and make them see stars.”

It turned out they weren’t half as bad as they had assumed. They even managed to kick Eveline off her broom with a Dopplebeater-Defence move they had never practised before. 

“High five, mate!” Jamie yelled as they landed after their team had won the match. He patted her shoulder. “Weasley, you’re a force to be reckoned with,” he told her as they marched back towards the communal tent. 

“Definitely,” she heard someone with a Scandinavian accent chime in behind her. Nis and Pawel, who had played Keeper and Chaser on their team caught up to them and both guys shook her hand.

“That was brilliant work, Weasley!” Pawel said. “The way you got Eveline’s broom spinning by hitting the front of the stick when she was about to score, that was masterful!” They rushed past, eager to get to dinner first.

Freyja, who had been following in their wake, scoffed at Ginny. “Don’t become all flustered now, Weasley. You might have had a good day today, but we all know you’re not here because you have any kind of talent,” she said. 

Ginny stared at her, slightly bewildered. “I’m sorry, what?”

Freyja shrugged and waved her hand in the approximate direction of Krum, who was walking a few paces ahead. “Everyone knows he only invited you so you could help him convince Hermione Granger to come to Bulgaria. He’s obsessed with her and he knows you can get through to her. Better than any of his letters can. Everybody in Durmstrang knows he writes to her all the time.”

“That’s a lie!” Ginny said. “He chose me because I can fly!”

Freyja laughed. It was a bitter, hard, little laugh.

Ginny’s mind was reeling. Could it be possible? Was Freyja right? Had Krum chosen her because she might get a word in with Hermione?

She needed to know! She needed to know if she was here because of her talent or if she was an imposter without even knowing it. She needed answers! Even if they might break her heart.

“Did you choose to let me onto the team because you remembered my connections with Ron, Harry and Hermione?” She enquired, bursting into the small tent without announcing herself.

Viktor was sitting at a small writing desk and pondering over the notes she had seen him taking during the game. When he saw the fury in Ginny’s eyes, he sighed and signalled her to take a seat opposite him. She sat down while still fixing him with her eyes.

“I am not going to lie to you,” he said. “I picked you out of the applicants because I knew you were Ronald Weasley’s sister and knew Hermione well.”   
Ginny bit her trembling lip. Of course. Of course he had only picked her because of that. Everyone else was here because they were talented. Because they deserved it. Because they belonged here. She was an imposter.

“Ginny Weasley,” Viktor’s voice broke through her thoughts, his hand grabbed hers in a tight grip across the table. “I said that I picked you for those reasons. But I could have picked you for other ones. The reference Professor McGonagall and Harry wrote you were both excellent. And you have proven that you deserve to be here not once or twice but several times. None of the others practised the whole night through to manage the Sloth Grip Roll and the Spiral Dive. You work yourself harder than all of them. You are like a dog. You bite, you don’t let go until you get what you want. You never give up. This is what makes a good player. Talent is one thing. All of you are talented. A lot of other kids I got applications from were talented as well. But talent doesn’t get you onto a team. It doesn’t get you to the top. I didn’t get where I am today because I had  _ talent _ .” He almost spat out the last word.

“I got here because I trained harder than everyone else. Because I didn’t listen to those who said I can’t do this or I can’t do that. And I tried and tried again until I  _ could _ do it.”

His grip was strong and the skin of his hands was calloused and rough and warm. As Ginny met his gaze, she realized she was actually having a private conversation with Viktor Krum, superstar Viktor Krum. And he was telling her that she could make it, that she might become his equal if she just trained hard enough. Her heart felt as if it was close to bursting.

She smiled and blinked away the tears. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for saying this.”

He grinned and let go of her hands. “Don’t worry so much, Ginny. Don’t always think that you are less than Harry Potter or your brother or Hermione Granger. You are enough on your own. What’s your favourite team?”

“The Holyhead Harpies,” she said quietly.

He smiled even wider and got up. “Ten years from now, you’ll be playing for the Holyhead Harpies.”

“That’s crazy.”   
He shook his head. “It’s a goal.”

“I’m… I…”

“When I was twelve years old, I said: Before I finish school, I’ll play for Bulgaria. And I made it. If I can do this, you can make the team.”


	4. Tranquil as a forest, but on fire within

After another three days which they spent rotating roles on the field, Viktor finally assigned them their final positions. Most of them had already played in the best positions, but there were some surprises. Elena turned out to be an excellent Beater despite her miniature size and slender frame. She was fierce and if one of her bludgers approached you, it was better to duck quickly. They were like cannonballs, hard, fast and precise. Giuliano learned that the hard way. He got one of her curve-balls against his head and fell off his broom, landing hard. After a quick assessment by Krum who knew a concussion when he saw one, the boy was sent off to the wizarding hospital in Sofia.

Over Thursday’s dinner, Viktor announced they would play a final match on the last day of camp. The teams were yet to be determined and they would play a few practice matches on Friday with different constellations. The final teams would be announced on Saturday. Giuliano would be back by then and ready to play again.

Throughout the week, a friendship had formed between Ginny and Jamie. After their first match, Nis had joined them for lunch and after another two days, he’d brought Eveline along. The quartet hoped they would be chosen to play on the same team. It was doable, as Jamie was clearly a Chaser, Eveline had become a Beater and was almost equally good as Elena. Nis had found his calling in the position of Keeper and had not let a single goal in during the test-matches. Krum had chosen Ginny to play Seeker but it had turned out she was an allrounder and performed just as good in Chaser or Beater position. She was probably worst as a Keeper, but she still did an okay job.

“How is it even possible that you can play all the positions?” Nis enquired at lunchtime over a plate of mashed potatoes and beef, waving his fork through the air.

Ginny shrugged. “I have six older brothers;” she explained. “We always played in our backyard and we swapped roles now and again.”

Jamie grinned. “Have to say, sometimes I envy you for your numerous family;” he said, putting an arm around her shoulders. “Life as an only child can be utterly boring and you definitely have nobody to play Quidditch with!”

She smiled at him.

She wondered what would come of their friendship once they got back to school. Jamie might not be one of Malfoy’s ilk, but he was a Slytherin nonetheless and the eternal rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin would eventually come between them. It would have to be determined whether their friendship could withstand this issue. She dearly hoped it would.

On Saturday morning, everyone was eagerly waiting for the announcement of the teams. Krum entered the communal tent and smiled at his trainees.

“You’ve all done a magnificent job and I want to congratulate all of you. Now, there’s only the big match to come. There will obviously be a winning and a losing team,” he said calmly. “The Winners will all get a prize. You will be allowed to attend any match you want during the next Quidditch season with three other people, friends, family members, whoever you want to take with you. And you’ll have the best seat category.”

He waited for a minute, as some chatter broke loose between the players and everyone started to tell each other which game they would want to see and with whom.

“I am going to draw the teams,” he said pointing at the big bowl of Snitches in front of him. “Each of these Snitches has a name inside. The first seven names drawn will be on the green team, the rest will be on the red team. I know some of you,” he fixed Urquhardt and Ginny with his gaze, “might have a favourite colour, because of their background but you are in Bulgaria now and I don’t care which house you’re in, so no debates!”

The quartet almost got lucky. Together with Jamie, Pawel and Ivan would be the Chasers and the recovered Giuliano would play Beater alongside Eveline. They had played together in Beauxbatons before, so they worked well as a team. Nis was sulking though because he’d been chosen to play Chaser for the opposing side.

As they entered the Quidditch pitch that afternoon, everybody was excited. This would be a proper game, with a proper prize. Since it was their final game of camp, they were eager to show off all of their skills to Krum. 

Ginny pulled her hair back into a tight bun and swung her leg over her broom, slowly hovering into the air together with the rest of the team. The green of her robe set off her red hair nicely and she felt quite at ease. This would be fun!

Viktor rose between the two teams, unleashed the Snitch which immediately darted away and then threw the Quaffle up into the air and tossed the bludgers in opposite directions.

The game was on. 

This was much more than the regular school-match. All of the people on the pitch were incredibly talented. The speed was crazy and the techniques they had picked up throughout the week were applied by both sides. Lee Jordan would have had a feast commenting on this match, Ginny thought. It was fast-paced and full of twists and turns. 

Even after half an hour, the teams were still at the same level of performance and there was no big difference between their scores. This match would be won by the Snitch. It was clear as day. With two sides this evenly matched, the outcome depended entirely on the Seeker. Her eyes scanned the ranks and the field as she made her rounds a little ways above the other players. From time to time, she needed to duck when one of Elena’s bludgers flew at her. 

Then, suddenly, she spotted a small golden glint at the middle goal post of the red team. Nobody else had seen it yet. It trundled down along the goal post, closer and closer to the ground.

As Ginny looked up she saw Freyja across the pitch. The girl had halted, followed her gaze and realized what Ginny was looking at. They both hovered at the same distance to the goal post and threw themselves into a forward motion at the same exact moment. Ginny bent low over the broomstick, feeling the air rush past her ears. Freyja was a little taller than her, she had more mass and might be a little slower against the wind. But would it suffice? A quick glimpse to the side destroyed her hope. No. It wouldn’t suffice. Ginny grit her teeth. What she was about to do was insane. They had only practised the move once, all together, in a contained environment, not in the rush of the game. Viktor had told them not to do it unless they were one hundred and twenty percent certain they could pull it off.

Ginny pushed the head of her broom down and rushed towards the ground like an arrow. Freyja followed without a second of hesitation. Head to head they surged towards the ground where the Snitch was dancing around the very bottom of the goal post now. It would be a question of momentum. Ginny had flown horrible brooms for most of her life. They were slow, reacted to any movement with a lag. One week on a bunch of NImbusses and Firebolts had shown her what was possible and what wasn’t. She pulled out of the dive just a split second before Freyja, swerved a little, got the broom back under control and grabbed the Snitch before it could fly off again. Behind her, she heard a loud ‘thump’, a ‘crack’ and a scream as Freyja hit the ground hard and splintered her broom in half in the process.

Ginny threw her hand in the air, the little wings of the Snitch still whirring between her fingers. With loud hoots, her team descended upon her. Shoulders were clapped, hugs were given. She enjoyed the attention for a minute, then turned to have a look at her opponent.

Freyja looked a bit worse for wear, her hair dishevelled and her robe torn, and she was standing next to the remains of her broom looking miserable but alive and well. Ginny lowered her broom, got off and held out her hand to the other girl.

“Great Game!” She said.

Freyja hesitated slightly, then smiled and shook the other girl’s hand. “Great Game,” she responded. “I’m sorry about what I said earlier this week. You definitely belong here.”

Ginny grinned, then turned back to her teammates to celebrate some more.

As they all set down for their last dinner. Viktor handed the green team their Quidditch vouchers then stood in the middle of the room until all eyes were fixed on him and silence had fallen.

“Thank you for attending the camp, everyone!” he announced. “I think you have done an excellent job, all of you.”

He then explained that he had been monitoring their progress throughout the week and that there would be three people who would win special prices. 

“These are not team-bound but based on your performance throughout the week.”

He waited for the murmur to subside and then produced three envelopes. “There was one person in here, who was incredibly close to quitting and who overcame her fear and self-doubt to become one of the fiercest players on the pitch. You probably already know who I mean.”

“Yeah!” Someone shouted. “Bradley!”

Everybody laughed but joined in what became a victory chant for Elena who blushed as she received her envelope.

“Next one is for coming back from a bad injury. I offered him to just go home and leave, but he insisted on coming back and playing. Giuliano, this is for you!”

Everybody cheered and clapped as the Italian boy received his prize.

“Finally, this is for someone who showed persistence, whose technique was way behind some of yours and who just set her head to it and became one of the best players on the team.”

Jamie’s elbow landed in Ginny’s ribs. “That’s you,” he grinned. 

She frowned.

“Ginny!” Krum said right at that moment.

She walked over to him in a daze and took the envelope from his hands. He grinned and added calmly so only she could hear it: “I should have chosen you for your talent, Ginny.”

“What is it?” Jamie asked as she came back. “What’s in the envelope!”

“Yes? Open it!” Nis pleaded.

She ripped it open and unfolded the paper inside.“Merlin,” she murmured as she stared at the words.

_ Dear Ginevra,  _

_ We are looking forward to welcoming you to one of our training sessions in the next season. Please get in touch so we can arrange where and when to pick you up. _

_ Looking forward to meeting you, _

_ The Holyhead Harpies _

Leaving camp was a sad matter.

Jamie looked close to crying, as he got onto one of the coaches that would take them back to Sofia. Elena was crying openly. Several others looked like they were about to join her. Ginny had just thrown her luggage into the back of the coach and was about to get on when she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder. Turning around she stood face to face with Viktor.

“I’ll see you in ten years maximum. Playing for the Harpies.” He hesitated. “Actually… if you ever feel like coming to Bulgaria again…”

She grinned. “As in: If I bring Hermione with me?”

He shook his head. “No. As in: If you want to hang out and see more of my beautiful country and learn how to do the Wronsky Bluff.”

“I’d love to.”   
“Then come, come for a visit any time you like.”   
-

Viktor watched the carriages roll off into the distance.

She was quite the extraordinary girl that Ginny Weasley. Quite a talent. A talent that needed to be supported. He knew he could get her there, could make her one of the best players on the planet. She had all the qualities of a rough diamond. She would be brilliant someday.


	5. Epilogue/The dark Side of the Moon

Ginny was completely knackered. She took off her playing robes and shin protectors and swapped her sports gear for a pair of jeans and a pullover.

“Coming for team dinner?” One of the other women asked. 

She shook her head. “Not today,” she replied.

The other’s eyes widened. “Oh,” she said. “Is it today?”

Ginny nodded. “It’s been more than a year. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

She left the changing room before anyone else could leap into a monologue on impossible friendships and why the heck was she so lucky and made her way out of the door. She apparated into the backyard of her favourite pub and walked over to where a lanky, familiar figure was already waiting for her.

“I saw your game,” Viktor said in lieu of hello as he hugged her. “You were amazing.”

Ginny grinned and followed him into the dim room which smelled of beer and liquor.

“I had a good teacher,” she replied as they took their seats at one of the corner tables.

These days it was easiest to meet in Muggle pubs where it was unlikely one or both of them would be recognized and ended up having to sign autographs for hours instead of getting any time to talk.

“And you haven’t been visiting for way too long,” Viktor grinned. “Bulgaria is missing you.”

Ginny sighed. “Sorry, I was kind of busy. You know with the wedding and all.”

Viktor’s gaze wandered down to the ring on her finger. “Well Mrs Potter, how is married life treating you?”

She grinned. “Not too bad, I’d say. Harry’s a very supportive and loving husband. It’s just… well, it can be exhausting having an extremely famous husband.”   
“You’re not less famous than him.”

“I am. Everyone knows the Golden Trio. But there are people out there who don’t follow Quidditch at all, so next to him… I get recognized a lot, he gets recognized, well, always.” She leaned her head against his shoulder.

“It gets tiring,” she said. “But he’s still lovely. He told me to say hello. He wanted to come by but somehow got caught up in the Ministry. Someone’s selling exploding kettles. There were bad injuries.”   
“Ugh,” Viktor pulled a face. “Shitty job.”

“Wouldn’t want to swap with him,” Ginny agreed. “I’m getting us drinks. What do you want?”

She went to the bar and ordered two pints of lager.

When she came back, Viktor looked lost in thought.

“What’s going through your mind?” She enquired.

The older man shrugged.

“Dunno. Several things. How proud I am that you are playing for the Harpies now. How cool it is that we are still friends after all these years. How much of an idiot I am that I let you marry Harry Potter instead of sweeping you off your feet and keeping you for myself.”

She frowned. “You never seemed inclined to sweep me off my feet.”   
“Believe me, I have eyes in my head and a working brain. There’s no way a man can hang out with you for substantial amounts of time and not consider you perfect marriage material. You’re strong-willed, fierce and a force to be reckoned with. And you’re beautiful even though you hate when people tell you that.”

She grinned. “You’re right about the last one,” she said.

They had indeed hung out a lot. After her first visit to Bulgaria, she’d made the journey on an almost annual basis and when it had become clear she might make the trials for the Harpies, he’d agreed to be her personal trainer for a month so she’d beat everyone else by lengths.

She was grateful for his help and she loved him like a brother. His family was lovely. She’d stayed with them several times and his granny still sent her woollen socks each Christmas. But Viktor had always just been a friend. A good friend. Someone she looked up to and admired and yet could talk to for hours on end.

“I thought you’re still pining after Hermione,” she said, sipping her beer.

He shrugged. “That was years ago,” he said. “And she only sent letters. Long letters, very polite letters. But she never came round. She never visited. I think she only dated me to spite your brother.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “I am not saying you have a point there, but you have a point there,” she said.

“I’ve liked you for years. Hoped I’d get a chance to tell you at Bill and Fleur’s wedding. But, well, it was pretty obvious you liked Harry and he liked you and I didn’t want to be an idiot.”

Ginny thought back to the wedding and remembered overhearing him mutter something along the lines of “all the beautiful girls are taken”.

“Oh…,” she said, realization dawning on her.

He grinned. “No worries. I’m not going to sulk and become a measly old bachelor. I am perfectly able to be happy for you. If I could be happy for anyone it would be my Ginny.”

She laughed and clinked her glass against his. “We’ll have to find you a girl, though;” she said. “Otherwise this, the two of us meeting up, might become awkward now.”   
He frowned. “Do you really think so?”

She considered it for a moment, then shook her head. “No,” she said. “It doesn’t change anything, knowing that you had a crush on me. You’re still my friend. You’d still be one of my emergency contacts if the world burned down. And I’ll still visit you in Bulgaria.”

They smiled at each other, knowing that no matter what would happen in the future, nothing would ever destroy their friendship.

THE END

  
  



End file.
